


Good Grief

by Mogseltof



Series: The Ethics of Design and Manufacture [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Decisions, Ex Sex, F/F, Humanformers, Ill Advised Sex, Ladyformers, break ups, impulsive hair cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: This time my best wasn’t good enough, well fuck, usually it is





	1. Ghost Story

Getting ready for dinner was like preparing for battle, Starscream mused, turning her head to inspect her french twist in the mirror. The right outfit to convey the right impression and make people think the right things about you. Her hand paused over the selection of lipsticks on her bathroom counter, considering her options carefully. She didn’t want to be too far off the shade of her dress, and Wheeljack  _ liked _ her usual shade of red (or at least, Starscream thought she did), but she was aiming to be a little different, more  _ serious _ tonight. She picked up a darker crimson and swiped it on carefully, waiting for it to dry before checking her teeth. 

No spots. She made a small, satisfied noise and poked her fingers through the small collection of earrings in her bowl next, holding a few up to her ears and turning her head before deciding on a pair of short silver chains ending in little starbursts. They had a matching necklace, that hung long and low to nestle in her cleavage, and Starscream examined herself critically in the mirror for a few moments before smirking at her reflection. Good quality lingerie that was complementary to her skin and figure, perfect hair and make up, shiny jewellery to attract attention to all the right spots. Wheeljack wouldn’t know what hit her. 

Well, okay, Starscream would make sure she knew what hit her. 

The dress she’d bought was simple; low cut, sleeveless, in her favourite shade of red with a wide white band around the middle, ending just above her knees with a slit in the wide skirt going almost all the way up her thigh. Starscream stepped into it and zipped it up, smoothing the cool fabric through her fingers and inspecting her legs for any spots her waxer may have missed. Satisfied that there was no hair left on her legs, Starscream stepped into the shiny black heels waiting by the counter and picked up her phone, checking the time. 

Perfect. She had enough time to make it to the restaurant,  _ and _ there was a message from Wheeljack saying she was already on the way. She wanted to  _ see _ Wheeljack’s expression when she walked in. 

On the way over Starscream caught her leg jittering as she looked out the window, and she stilled it forcefully. She was  _ not _ nervous about this. She’d tried taking the situation to Wheeljack, going out of her comfort zone for her, now it was Wheeljack’s turn to come to her. And this time she’d make it so  _ fucking _ obvious that Wheeljack wouldn’t be  _ able _ to misinterpret it. She checked her reflection in her selfie camera as the car pulled up in front of the restaurant, and dropped her phone back into her purse, satisfied, before she got out. 

She could see Wheeljack from the hostess’ station as she entered the restaurant. Wheeljack was focusing on something on her phone, typical, but she looked up, catching sight of Starscream, her eyes widening. Starscream pretended not to notice, revelling in the close attention Wheeljack was paying her. Wheeljack herself had scrubbed up nicely for the occasion, Starscream noted approvingly as she made her way over to the table, with a clean shirt and pants and even low heels and jewellery Starscream didn’t recognise. 

“Dressed to impress?” asked Wheeljack dryly as she sat down, one eyebrow raised. 

“Always,” said Starscream smugly, hanging her purse over the back of the chair and meeting Wheeljack’s eyes in a challenge. The attention and the recognition of being impressive made her preen a little bit, confidence bolstered. “Shall we get something to drink?”

The corner of Wheeljack’s mouth twitched up. “Something tells me they don’t have my preferred pilsner here.”

“It won’t kill you to try a nice wine for once,” said Starscream tartly, picking up the drinks menu. “Who knows, you might even develop a palate.”

Wheeljack snorted, shaking her head as she inspected the drinks menu in front of her, but Starscream could see that she was smiling. Wheeljack looked blankly at the list in front of her for a few seconds, then dropped it back on the table. “You pick one,” she said, shrugging with one shoulder. “It’s not like I know what’s good here, and you’ll judge if I just go cheap.”

“So you can teach an old dog new tricks,” said Starscream with a smirk, not looking up from the wines list. She looked up expectantly, and a waiter appeared promptly by her side. Starscream ordered two cabernets, and turned her attention back to Wheeljack. 

“Thanks,” said Wheeljack to the waiter before he walked off, and she gave Starscream a dry look. 

Starscream rolled her eyes and set the drinks menu down, clasping her hands together on the table top. “How have you been?” she asked. 

Wheeljack gave her a strange look. “Fine?” she said, sounding confused. “We saw each other yesterday, nothing’s really changed.”

Starscream waved a hand impatiently. “That was for work, it hardly counts as socialising.”

“Oh, we socialise now?” asked Wheeljack, her tone changing to amused. 

Starscream resisted the urge to scowl. “How’s your car coming along?” she asked instead of voicing any of the dozen retorts that had lined up on her tongue. 

Wheeljack lit up, grinning at her. “Going well! My mechanic finally got the last few pieces I ordered in, so I should have her up and running in the next couple of weeks. Then it’s just a matter of making sure she’s street legal and getting the registration in order. She still needs a lick of paint, too, but that’s the easy part, y’know?”

Starscream ‘hmmed’ agreeably as the waiter returned with their wine, setting it down in front of them. “Thanks,” said Wheeljack again, smiling at him, and the waiter gave her a brief smile back, nodding his head before disappearing. 

“You don’t have to say thank you every time,” Starscream pointed out. 

Wheeljack frowned at her, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “It’s polite, Starscream. They’re stuck here working, they don’t have to feel bad about it.”

Starscream sniffed, looking down at the menu instead of answering or meeting Wheeljack’s eye. “What kind of paint are you thinking about for the car?” she said instead, not really taking in any of the food options in front of her. 

She could feel the weight of Wheeljack’s expression, and Wheeljack didn’t answer for a few, long moments. “Green and white,” she said eventually, and Starscream could almost hear the disapproval in her voice. “She’s a little retro, so I want her to look the part.”

“A little bit like its owner,” said Starscream dryly, and Wheeljack snorted. Starscream’s mood lifted a little at the sound, and she finally looked up. Wheeljack was still fiddling with the stem of the wine glass instead of drinking, and she had a small, wry smile on her face. 

“You realise we’re roughly the same age so anytime you call me old it reflects on you as well?” she said. 

Starscream shook her head, nose pointing in the air slightly. “I at least live in this century,” she pointed out airily. 

“I work in the technology sector,” said Wheeljack, still sounding amused. “Technically I’m leagues ahead of you.”

“And yet you spend all your money and free time on some relic from the seventies,” said Starscream, her lip curling up, arms folded on the table. 

“Eighties,” corrected Wheeljack cheerfully. “And you can’t call me out on that when you spent how much on a print of the first photos of Pluto? From what, the twenties?”

“Pluto wasn’t discovered until nineteen thirty,” said Starscream, arching an eyebrow and taking a sip of her wine. The dry taste hit her tongue, rich and dark, and she swallowed, relishing in the taste and conversation. “And I spent a perfectly respectable amount, thank you  _ very _ much.”

The prints themselves, blown up and grainy, just showed the region of space, Pluto an almost unidentifiable spot in very slightly different places on either print. Starscream had hung them over her desk in her home office. Wheeljack laughed, shaking her head. “You know, if I told someone who knew you that your first undergrad was in astrophysics I don’t think they’d believe me.”

“And why not?” objected Starscream, setting her wine glass down on the table. “It’s not like I don’t have the brains!”

“I think it’s more that you’re just such a prototypical lawyer that people half expect you to have come out of the womb citing case precedent to your advantage,” joked Wheeljack. “Thinking of you as a STEM major squirreled away in some lab is just bizarre.”

“Please, I am  _ far _ from typical,” said Starscream, tone arch, and she took another sip of wine. 

“That you are,” said Wheeljack, shaking her head again. They were silent for a few seconds, then Wheeljack’s expression changed, to a slightly more serious, almost concerned expression. “So, uh. Your office is working with Megatron’s this month. You okay with that?”

The wine in Starscream’s mouth turned sour, and she swallowed, hiding a grimace. She reached her hand out across the table, resting it on Wheeljack’s own. “I’d rather not talk about Megatron tonight,” she said, meeting Wheeljack’s eyes steadily. 

Wheeljack frowned slightly, her head tilting to the side, and then her eyes widened in surprise. Starscream could almost  _ see _ the connections firing in her head.  _ Finally _ . Her mouth opened, and she hesitated. “Starscream,” she said in a careful tone. “Is this meant to be a date?”

All of the confidence Starscream had carefully built up over the evening sunk like a rock, and she snatched her hand back like she’d been burnt, sitting bolt upright in her chair. Wheeljack’s expression turned almost sympathetic, and Starscream’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. “If you laugh at me I will  _ stab _ you with a  _ fork _ !” she hissed. 

“I’m not going to laugh at you,” said Wheeljack, and what the  _ fuck _ was that undercurrent of pity doing in her voice? “But, Starscream, no, you know we can’t date.”

It felt like all of the blood drained from Starscream’s face. 

Wheeljack kept talking, and Starscream stared, her voice coming through almost muted. “You said it yourself, we don’t even  _ like _ each other, we wouldn’t have met if not for work, and fuck, we’re just, so different-”

“Get out.”

Starscream hadn’t even realised she’d spoken, and she wished she could take it back, her voice full of hurt she didn’t mean or want to show. 

“I’ll go,” said Wheeljack, her voice far too understanding as she stood, collecting her phone and sliding it into her pocket. Starscream didn’t turn to watch her leave, her gaze focused on the plate in front of her, and almost mechanically she brought the wineglass to her lips, draining it in one, long go. 


	2. Whiplash

The door to Starscream’s apartment slammed shut behind her and she dropped her purse on the floor, angrily ripping her heels off and throwing them across the room, not bothering to look where they landed. She stormed across the floor to the kitchen, reaching out and ripping bobby pins out of her hair, slamming them onto the countertop before she reached up to the liquor cupboard, pulling down the first bottle her fingers met. 

She opened the cupboard underneath her, pulling out a large glass tumbler, and unscrewed the bottle, pouring a large portion of the mostly untouched brandy into the glass. She screwed up her nose and brought it to her lips, taking two, large gulps before setting it back down on the counter, bracing her knuckles on the counter top either side of the glass. 

There was heat building behind her tear ducts, and she resolutely ignored it, refusing to let anymore of her body betray her tonight. 

She took another drink from the brandy and grimaced, holding the cool glass against her cheek. Fitting. Megatron had left the brandy here when they were still doing their late night… Talks. Well. It wasn’t like she’d be back to  _ drink _ it anytime soon. Starscream took a more moderate sip and pulled open the second kitchen drawer with her free hand, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the top. She opened it one handed and slipped the filter between her lips, before rifling through the mess, looking for a lighter. 

Scowling around the cigarette she stalked over to her bedroom, aiming for her bedside table where she kept a spare lighter. What caught her eye instead was Wheeljack’s pilfered Mythbusters shirt draped over the chair in the corner. Her scowl deepened, and she found the lighter first before snatching the shirt up and pushing the door to her balcony open. She lit the cigarette first, and set the brandy on the little table she kept out there, taking a long drag and pushing the smoke through her nose, before holding the shirt up and setting the bottom of it alight. 

The cotton flared and caught, and Starscream dropped it to the tiles, leaning back against the railing. She watched it burn dispassionately, one arm folded under her bust as she smoked. It smoldered and went out with a sleeve and some of the torso left, and Starscream pushed the remaining fabric around with her toe to make sure there was no active flame left before stubbing her cigarette butt and dropping it on top of what was left of the shirt, collecting her drink and walking back inside. 

Feeling a little more composed, she crossed back to the kitchen, draining her glass and refilling it, before slinging the neck of the bottle between two fingers and dropping herself into her couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. The brandy was rich, high quality, and now she was more used to the taste, warm in her mouth. Starscream tilted her head back, pressing it into the couch cushions, and was stabbed in the base of the neck by a rogue bobby pin. 

Starscream ignored it for as long as she could, closing her eyes and holding the brandy in her mouth, but it was starting to get painful, so she set the bottle down on her coffee table and reached into her hair, yanking it out with a muttered curse. Her fingers brushed against more metal and she took a deep, angry breath, slamming her glass down next to the bottle and spilling some brandy onto the surface. She sat up and used both hands, finger combing through her hair, pulling out three more pins and shaking her hair out to make sure there weren’t any left hiding away. Why had she even bothered? Wheeljack probably hadn’t even noticed how much effort she’d put into it. 

Wheeljack liked touching Starscream’s hair. 

Starscream picked up the glass again and drank as much of the brandy as she could possibly stand. Megatron had liked touching her hair too, liked curling her fist in it and holding on tight. Skyfire would stand behind her in the lab and plait it when it was escaping her ponytail. Starscream scowled to herself and pulled a lock of her hair in front of her face. Useless, stupid --

She got up and stalked across the room, picking up her purse and pulling her phone out. She flicked a terse text off to her hairdresser and went to put it away before hesitating. She tapped through to her contacts, finger hovering over Wheeljack’s number before exhaling deeply and pressing down on the ‘Block this contact’ option. She walked slowly back over to the couch and sat down again, bringing up every platform they were connected on and blocking Wheeljack on each, before finally dropping the phone down and picking up the glass again. 

“Stupid,” she muttered to herself, staring hard into the glass. Why had she even tried? Even  _ considered _ it might have been a good idea?

“ _ Stupid _ ,” she said again, louder this time. It wasn’t like it was something she needed. It was stupid of her to want more than what she had in the first place so why had she even tried? It wasn’t like she’d needed a relationship since she was a student, her time with Megatron was proof enough of that, so what the  _ hell  _ had she been thinking trying to take it a step further with Wheeljack?

Starscream gave up on the glass and went straight for the bottle this time, swigging directly from the source this time. Fuck it.  _ Fuck _ Wheeljack, Starscream was a goddamn  _ gem _ , if Wheeljack couldn’t see that, Starscream had clearly made a mistake in sleeping with her in the first place. Moodily she leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling, tapping a freshly manicured fingernail against the glass of the bottle. 

All the hours she’d put into their facade of a relationship, the dresses, the make up, the time spent over lunches and coffees, the arguments about energy efficiency, Wheeljack’s mouth on her neck and fingers on her clit -- Starscream took another swig of brandy, cutting that line of thought off as quickly as it had started. A waste of time, that was all it had been. Just, a waste of her time. 

She wrapped her arms around a cushion and willed herself not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you get one (1) gratuitous self indulgent chapter of moping


	3. Glitter and Gold

This was absolutely ridiculous.  _ Absolutely _ and utterly ridiculous. Why exactly had she expected anything different to come out of working with Megatron? Maybe it was because this time she wasn’t working  _ for _ Megatron instead. Idiotic assumption, really. Regardless of how each of them had changed and… Matured since those days, Megatron was just as hard to work with and get through to. 

Starscream’s shirt sleeves were rolled up past her elbows as she pushed through the stack of papers spread over her table, and she stabbed a finger down on the relevant paperwork. “There!” she said, triumphant, “I  _ told _ you so-”

Megatron leaned over the table and whisked the file up, inspecting it carefully, and she rubbed at her forehead. Her eyes seemed to scan the same section of text three times, and she sighed, reaching over and grabbing a fluorescent green tab to mark the sheet of paper. “This is even more incomprehensible than what you used to bring me.”

“It’s constitutional law, get used to it,” said Starscream, rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath, tilting her neck to one side to stretch out the muscles. 

Megatron was watching her, and Starscream frowned, looking across the table. It hadn’t been that long since they were working together full time, but Megatron looked… Aged. There were fine lines around her eyes, and her hair was significantly more silver than it used to be. Her own business jacket was draped over a chair at the table, and her shirt was crumpled with the stresses of the day, top button undone. 

They’d been evicted from Starscream’s office building two hours after the end of the working day, and gotten take away before adjourning to Starscream’s apartment, the scraped clean containers banished to one corner of the table as their paperwork took over all available real estate. 

Megatron’s eyes flicked back down from Starscream’s face to the veritable mess on the table top, and she grunted, rubbing her temples. “I need a drink,” she said tiredly. “My eyes are swimming. We can pick back up in the morning.” She sounded thoroughly disgusted, and Starscream took a deep breath, trying to reign in her temper. 

“Your office’s deadline for this is in a  _ week _ ,” she said, more than a little testy. “We can’t just  _ take a break _ .”

Megatron checked her watch and scowled. “Starscream, it is  _ half past eleven _ , neither of us are twenty one anymore, both of us need to  _ sleep _ at some point. We can’t just keep going.”

“ _ You _ can’t keep going!” snapped Starscream, glaring at her.

Megatron glared back, bracing her hands on the table and disrupting the mess of papers. “Look,” she said in a low growl. “I don’t  _ know _ what is going on in your personal life, and frankly, I don’t  _ care _ , but if you’re going to drown yourself in work, do it on  _ your _ dime, not  _ mine _ .”

A low hissing noise escaped from between Starscream’s teeth, and her fingernails bit into her palms through clenched fists. “You have no right to  _ judge _ me-”

“I’ll judge your  _ work _ ,” snapped Megatron, standing up properly and striding across to Starscream’s kitchen, reaching up into the liquor cupboard. “And it gets fucking terrible when you stop sleeping!”

A snarl bubbled up Starscream’s throat, and she pushed the paperwork away from her, stalking across to the kitchen after Megatron. Her feet ached in her heels, but she wasn’t willing to take them off, saving every possible near advantage she could get with Megatron. She reached past Megatron and pulled out a new bottle of gin, as Megatron sorted through her collection with a small frown. “If you’re calling my work fucking terrible I’d advise you to reconsider,” she said snippily. 

“It’s  _ acceptable _ , but I know how you get,” said Megatron irritably, finally settling on a half full bottle of whiskey and getting a glass out. “You wind yourself up into a  _ tizzy _ over your  _ issues  _ and everything half viable goes down the drain after it.”

“Fuck you,” snapped Starscream, yanking the glass out of her hand and pouring a measure of gin into it, leaning against the countertop. “I do exceptional work all of the  _ fucking _ time, you just don’t know a good thing when it’s right under your goddamn nose.”

Megatron closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling another glass out of the cupboard. “Fucking exceptional is  _ one _ word for it,” she muttered, crossing to open Starscream’s freezer and scowling at the contents. “Don’t you have real ice cubes?”

“No, use the whiskey stones,” said Starscream briskly, sipping at her gin. 

Megatron grumbled under her breath and dropped the metal cubes into her glass with a clatter, pouring a measure of whiskey over the top. She crossed back over and placed the whiskey next to the gin, leaning back next to Starscream. She was warm through the linen of their shirts, and they sipped the drinks in silence. Starscream was hyper aware of every breath Megatron took, how strikingly familiar the whole situation was. The argument had been less fiery though, as if Megatron had… Mellowed. 

Starscream snorted into her drink. Hardly likely. If she craned her neck just so she could see the top of the empty brandy bottle in her recycling, and she smirked slightly. 

“What’s so amusing?” asked Megatron, deep voice rife with suspicion. 

“You,” said Starscream, taking another sip. “This. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Glad to see you’re taking this seriously,” said Megatron sardonically, taking a long drink of the whiskey. 

“Oh I’m taking the work seriously, I just don’t think  _ you’re _ worth taking seriously. Can’t believe I ever did.”

Megatron’s eyes slid over to her, face still aimed straight ahead. “Oh?” she said, casual posture belied by the underlying tension in her pose. 

“This!” snapped Starscream, gesturing with her glass, gin rising up the sides. “The idea that we can just go back to working together like nothing’s changed!” The fact that they slotted back together like nothing had. It was  _ grating _ . 

Megatron snorted, raising her eyebrows and draining her glass. The metal cubes clinked together as she did so. “Believe me, things have definitely changed.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Starscream irritably, ignoring the brush of Megatron’s knuckles against her own. “I’m saying it’s patently ridiculous to act as though nothing has!”

“You’ve always been patently ridiculous,” said Megatron, and when Starscream’s head jerked up to glare, Megatron was looking down at her with an unreadable expression. 

Oh no. This was a bad idea. A  _ terrible _ idea. There was a  _ reason _ they’d stopped working late into the night like this, and Starscream was now staring it  _ right _ in the face. Megatron raised a hand and tucked Starscream’s hair behind her ear. “You look good,” she said quietly. 

Starscream scowled, still unused to the lightness of her hair, the feeling of the clipped ends brushing her skin. “It’s not for you,” she said, ruthlessly quashing the strange feeling in her throat. 

“I don’t doubt that,” said Megatron, and she had the temerity to sound  _ amused _ . “You’ve never done anything that wasn’t for yourself.”

“Fuck you,” said Starscream without any real heat behind it.

“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore,” said Megatron drily. “Or is that fucking ridiculous as well?”

This was exactly what Starscream should have been avoiding, but no, here she was again, steel jaw closing around her. “You’re fucking ridiculous,” she said instead, eyes narrowing. Megatron was close enough that Starscream could see the slight angle to her nose where it hadn’t quite set the right way after being broken. Starscream was quite proud of that angle; she’d smashed a vase across Megatron’s face to get that.

“So you’ve said,” said Megatron, amusement deepening in her tone. “You haven’t answered my question though.”

“Was there a question in that drivel?” said Starscream carelessly, setting her glass down and taking the last step to press close to Megatron, and with a snap, the trap closed shut, pressing Megatron and Starscream together in the middle. 

Megatron’s mouth tasted like whiskey and mint, warm and firm against Starscream’s own. Her hands wrapped around Starscream’s upper arms, even as Starscream’s fingers curled in the front of Megatron’s shirt, kissing her back almost softly. They pulled back barely an inch, Megatron’s dark eyes staring into her own. “That was different,” murmured Megatron, lips barely moving. 

Starscream’s eyes flicked down to them anyway. “I’ll say,” she said quietly. “Have you been chewing gum?”

Megatron’s lips quirked upwards at the corners. “I’ve been told I should quit smoking,” she said ruefully. 

“Stupid,” said Starscream faintly, and kissed her again. 

Megatron tightened her grip slightly and turned them, pressing Starscream back against the countertop, gently encouraging her to slide up and sit on top of it. Starscream parted her legs, skirt riding up, and Megatron stepped between them, pressing close. It was unhurried, almost affectionate, and Starscream shoved down how much she  _ wanted _ that. 

In that same, slow pace of motion, Megatron’s hands were on the buttons of her shirt, picking them apart one by one, and Starscream’s chest heaved, tilting her head as she slipped her tongue into Megatron’s mouth, slick, sparking something at the base of her spine. Megatron’s calloused fingers slipped around her waist, pressing them close together, and fingertips played up the knobs of her spine. 

Starscream twitched close against her, dragging down on Megatron’s shirt and kissing her hungrily, scraping her teeth against her lower lip. Megatron made a pleased noise and pressed in harder, her fingers digging into Starscream’s skin, and Starscream exhaled shakily, sucking Megatron’s lip into her mouth, jerking up against her. 

Megatron smiled against her lips, and her fingers travelled lower, tracing the skin under the waistband of Starscream’s skirt. Starscream jerked her head back, banging it against the door of the drinks cabinet behind her head. “Stop pussyfooting around,” she said breathlessly, and Megatron laughed, finding the zipper on her skirt and stepping back to tug it off. Starscream kicked the fabric away, losing one of her heels in the process, and Megatron was back up against her immediately, warm hands going to Starscream’s hips. 

Those hands clutched and pulled, and Starscream ground back hard, almost painfully against Megatron, her head tilting backwards as Megatron’s mouth found a pulse point on her neck, warm lips and teeth lathing over the spot. Starscream jerked against her again, her hands scrabbling against Megatron’s shirt, looking for the buttons and hastily tugging them open. Her hands dove under Megatron’s shirt, hands skating over ribs, searching for the spots that would make Megatron twitch and gasp in return. 

There was a pleased noise from the back of Megatron’s throat, and her lips slowly migrated down, teeth teasing and twitching at the skin over Starscream’s collarbones and chest, her hands hot and tight around her hips. Starscream pushed her hands into Megatron’s hair, curling her hands tightly. 

Megatron made a low noise under her breath and dropped to her knees, pressing her open mouth with hot breath onto the fabric covering Starscream’s vulva. Starscream’s legs clamped around Megatron’s head, hands urging her closer with a soft noise spilling from her lips. Megatron laughed, warm and tingling against her, and her hands curled into Starscream’s underwear, tugging them away. Starscream pulled a leg up so that Megatron could pull it off completely, losing her other heel in the process. 

In a heartbeat Megatron was back on her with her lips and tongue, shooting a thrill straight up Starscream’s spine.  Starscream made a noise that was definitely not a mewl, her hands pressing against the back of Megatron's head. Megatron's mouth was hot and wet and Starscream swore, tilting her hips up and pushing back as hard as she could. This was good, this was hot, this was familiar in ways she didn't care to examine right then.

They'd been here before, in Starscream's kitchen, in Starscream's office, in Megatron's office, on either of their couches, and sometimes, rarely, in an actual bed. Starscream had been here, on her kitchen bench with Wheeljack as well, but there had been more laughter, more jokes about knees on tile floors, chapped lips kissing up thighs, joking insults, grins. Megatron's wasn't someone who laughed much. Or if she did, it was never in these moments, never with Starscream.

God, this was, this was - Megatron's tongue was in her cunt and she was thinking about Wheeljack _ laughing _ ?

What the fuck was wrong with her? Starscream cursed and tightened her grip on Megatron's hair, prompting a grunt from the woman between her legs. Megatron tilted her chin up, angle changing, but it didn't spark anything other than the sensation of something wet shifting against her. Her mood, their weird tension, it was dead and she'd killed it. What was she even doing?

"Stop," she said dully, letting go of Megatron's head and reaching her hand up to cover her face.

To her credit, Megatron stopped immediately and pulled away, rocking back on her heels and standing. Starscream shut her eyes behind her fingers so she didn't have to keep looking at the small, worried frown on Megatron's face. It was a long moment before she spoke. "Do you want to talk about what's wrong?" asked Megatron, her tone neutral.

"Absolutely not," said Starscream through gritted teeth. "This was a mistake."

There was silence for a few moments, and then Megatron shifted minutely, soft whispering of her movement in front of Starscream. "It was, yes," she said, and more than anything, she sounded tired.

Starscream let her hand fall to the counter and blinked, looking at Megatron properly. The lines around her eyes seemed more pronounced, the crumpled shirt moreso, and her hair was mussed where Starscream's fingers had been buried in it. "You're right. Things have definitely changed and it's stupid to pretend otherwise," said Megatron in that same tone. "I'll see you in the morning."

Starscream let her head thud back against the cabinet door and closed her eyes again, clenching her fingers on the edge of the counter. Megatron's footsteps left the kitchen and crossed the room towards the table again, before going back towards the door. It opened and shut, and Starscream's fingers tightened again, tensing the muscles in her knuckles until it was almost unbearable. She was cold, and exposed, and her muscles were twitching where she’d been wound up. It was just a mistake. Just a series of stupid mistakes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure why the title on this one is Glitter and Gold but I'm trusting that past Mogseltof who put the plan together had xer reasons. (I think it might have just been my Megatron song at the time.) I try to keep myself mostly out of the chapter notes but, uh, it's been *checks posting dates* sEVEN MONTHS since I last did anything with what was supposed to be a rapid fire posting of a short fic so I feel like I owe anyone who's stuck around at least my presence. My writing life has spent the last several months absorbed in one of my novels with the occasional impatient break for university work, so while I haven't abandoned fanfiction altogether I did take a pretty significant step back on both the reading and the writing of it, and I'm not sure what my future presence on AO3 is going to look like right now. This series will be finished, as will my other in progress works for Transformers, but the fics are, for once, taking a backseat to my original works. It will not be seven months between updates again though, I promise! With a cherry on top! And thank you guys for filling my inbox with kudos and nice comments during those seven months, I'm gonna get to replying now! Okay, end author intervention, back to our scheduled lesbian pining.

**Author's Note:**

> Good Grief, Dessa: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zpb1gJyMKIs  
> Ghost Story, Charming Disaster: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keegRRp2TN4  
> Whiplash, FEMM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rXxbe6vlrY  
> Glitter & Gold, Barns Courtney: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GySIToHCPac  
> Does Your Mother Know, ABBA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkL7Fkigfn8


End file.
